Looking Glass
by MadHatter10by6
Summary: The second fanfic inspired by the "Create you own mutant" thread at the IMDB. A twelve year-old mutant with extraordinary powers meets a young boy who is more similar to her than either of them realized. They embark on an adventure across two worlds.
1. Chapter 1

_(Brief notes: Here is the second story based on the thread I created on the IMDB under the film "X-Men: The Last Stand" entitled "Create you own mutant." Remember, positive reviews feed my strength! I will not create the third chapter of Recruits, then come back to this one. Enjoy!)_

**DISCLAIMER: Clavita Cruz is the property of the user Glocktwentyseven, and Delusion is the property of the user Goodness Gracious.**

_**********_

_7:30 am_

Twelve year-old Clavita Cruz had been in a deep sleep when the shrill ringing of her alarm clock once again alerted her to the beginning of another productive day.

Fighting to extricate herself from the bed sheets and soft warm blankets that had somehow tangled and ensnared her at some point during the night, Clavita groggily shut off her alarm and gave a great yawn, bits of sleep still clouding her mind. With a tired chuckle, she wondered why she even bothered with an alarm clock; the sounds of cars, people, and honking horns coming form the streets below could do the job just as easily. But then, the street noise could not be properly timed, and since Clavita had happened to find her neighbor throwing out his old, broken alarm clock one day... Waste not, want not, she reasoned.

She was briefly tempted to burrow back under the covers for a bit longer. It wasn't that she was unenthusiastic about a new day. She was just opponent to sacrificing the warmth of her bed for the chilly morning air of her apartment. That, and the prospect of her delicate feet treading on the cold wooden floor. From the comfort of her bed, Clavita let her eyes wander around her bedroom.. Its title was barely deserved; there was only just enough room for a bed, dresser and desk. The amount of free space was ridiculously low, but then again, that made it all the more easier to vacuum once a week.

Well, idle hands were the devil's busywork, as they say. In a flash, Clavita threw off the covers and tiptoed very quickly across her bedroom, her ill-fitting pajamas swishing audibly. Fighting against the stinging cold that always permeated her apartment's floor at the current time of the year, she only let her feet relax upon reaching the relative comfort of her bathroom rug, set atop the worn and cracked tile floor. Shutting the door with an ear-aching squeak, Clavita twisted the knob of her shower. After a few rattles and squeaks, a torrent of heated water gushed down from the slightly rusted and dented showerhead, filling the room with blessed steam.

She let the steam envelop her for a moment, reveling in the fact that (for the moment) the cold of space was outwitted. It made her feel, even for just fifteen minutes, that she could conquer the elements themselves.

**********

_7:45 am_

Wrapped in a towel and pitter-pattering awkwardly in her slippers, Clavita thoroughly scrutinized her meager wardrobe to decide on the day's outfit. Frowning thoughtfully, she carefully moved one hanger containing an article of clothing from one side to the other, pondering its usefulness.

She sighed. The simple task of getting dressed often took nearly twenty minutes. Clavita still could not figure out why. She certainly did not have much to choose from. She took out an old T-shirt and promptly moved it to a lower drawer, deciding that the weather would no longer agree with it. Despite only being early October, the climate felt like something more akin to mid-November. She examined a collection of turtlenecks she'd received from the Salvation Army that were, despite their age and outdated style, cute on her. She held up a pair of second-hand jeans that she had purchased for practically nothing at a clothing store's "Going Out Of Business Sale." Although she had managed to sew up the hole in one of the thigh areas, and even embroidered a floral pattern that she was proud of, she had worn them a few times per week for as long as she could remember. Although repetition was beneficial in some ways, she wanted to wear something different today.

She took out a lovely wool sweater that fit her perfectly. Clavita smiled at the memory of how she came into possession of it. It had been almost a year ago, she had spent the day in adjoining Essex County researching some historic sites both for pleasure and education when she happened across a garage sale. She'd fished out the sweater from a box marked "$5.00 Each." The house's owner walked by her at precisely that time, asking the innocent-looking girl if she needed help. Ordinarily, Clavita only purchased cheaper clothes in order to more adequately remain in her budget, but she just loved the sweater too much. Her prodigious mind quickly overcame such an obstacle. She smiled sweetly at the middle-aged man and feigned broken English, asking the price despite it being clearly labeled in front of her. Since her accent was most convincing, and the charmingly naive man had assumed she was a poor young immigrant girl without many possessions, he happily sold it to her for a measly fifty cents.

It was that memory that convinced her to choose the sweater as her article of choice for the day. Besides, she mused, the sandy color of it complimented her eyes and skin tone. After hastily choosing some corduroy pants she'd picked up at the Goodwill, she made a mental note to check if her sewing kit's supplies had dwindled.

**********

_8:10 am_

Clavita flicked on the light of her kitchenette and paused momentarily. She had long since concluded that this was her least favorite component of her apartment. Though the kitchen was not in need of any repair and was kept vigorously clean, every morning when she turned on the light and watched the flickering florescent bulb bathe the counters, sink and stove in an eerie white glow, her heart was filled with a fleeting sense of longing. Perhaps it was because the sight of the outdated gas stove reminded her of the many nights she would happily help her mother prepare dinner while maintaining a spirited conversation with her full of laughter.

Or how the counters jogged Clavita's memory of the visits she and her parents had made to see her maternal grandmother in San Cristóbal. Rosa would sit her then seven year-old granddaughter on the counter of her tiny little house that, despite being occupied by only one person, radiated warmth and love. She adored the child immensely, teaching her all the old songs and stories that had been handed down through the generations of their family while she sat on the counter with great excitement and awe..

The sink was similar to the one Clavita had often seen in her apartment growing up. Many were the nights she'd sneak out of bed to get a glass of water, only to find her mother washing something, humming to herself. Clavita had smiled when she observed the way her father would walk up behind her mother, wrap both arms around her torso, and draw her close, whispering sweet words into her ear. Her mother would turn, and with her hands still wet and soapy, she wrapped her arms around her husband, resting her head on his shoulder. Clavita beamed with untold happiness, seeing two adults interact with such love and devotion for each other.

But now there was never any laughter or cheer echoing from the stove. It was only used about once or twice a day. Her grandmother had since passed on, and the many stories and songs she had been taught were alarmingly beginning to fade. Whenever she'd ventured out of her bed in the middle of the night for a drink, she was met with only a cold, dark, empty room with no one else in sight. To her, the tiny kitchenette symbolized two things: a past she desperately wished for, and a future she thought she could never have.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Clavita poured some oats into a bowl, and set a pot of water on the stove to boil.

***********

_8:45 am_

After quickly washing her bowl and spoon, brushing her teeth, applying a quick coat of mascara and fixing her hair, Clavita was finally out the door. Well, almost out the door. She halted briefly to collect her trademark black bag. Once outside, she locked her apartment door with a quick turn of her key, and trotted down the nine flights of stairs. She decided against using the elevator. From what she'd heard from the other tenants on her floor, the building superintendent still had yet to fix it. The story of a single mother with her two children being trapped in the elevator for twelve straight hours still spread through the building like wildfire, and Clavita reasonably decided not to tempt fate.

Stepping out of her apartment into the chilly morning air, Clavita walked surefooted down the city street. She noticed Owen, a handyman from another building, methodically patching a crack in the pavement. Upon hearing Clavita's dainty footsteps, the man turned and smiled cordially.

"Morning, sweetheart," he said as if addressing one of his own children.

"Morning, Owen," she responded, nodding her head and slowing her pace somewhat.

"How's your Auntie?"

"Oh, she's great," Clavita answered convincingly, flashing an angelic smile. "She really loves Autumn. Too bad she has to work most of the time..."

"Well," Owen mused, scraping his trowel carefully. "She's keepin' a roof over your head, and that's the most important thing."

"Oh, absolutely," Clavita bowed slightly. "Well, I have to get going. I don't want to be late. I have a study session."

"Sure, sure," Owen answered, waving her off. "Don't let me keep you."

With that, Clavita briskly walked away and out of sight. Owen peacefully continued his repair work for another minute before raising his head and furrowing his brow. "A study session before school?" he asked himself in confusion. He shrugged and continued his work. "Poor girl. Takes everything so seriously..."

**********

_9:10 am_

Squinting mildly in the rising sun, Clavita entered the pristine and beautiful Boston Common for another day of "work." Stepping around a sleeping homeless man and making sure to avoid an angry-looking goose by the pond, she purged her mind of emotions. Now it was all business. Eventually she reached a small group of square, metal tables, each with two wrought iron chairs. Sighing, she plopped herself down in one and waited. It wouldn't be long now...

Concentrating her vision, Clavita could just make out the outline of the Massachusetts State House, just across Beacon Street to the north. As a result, this area of the park was often frequented by white-collar types. Businessmen, attorneys, city council members... she'd even seen the governor once. Whether they were in the park to rest their nerves in between court dates, or simply to converse with their colleagues in a more friendly atmosphere, Clavita appreciated their arrival. Of course, she appreciated their money a little bit more.

Smiling like a cat that had just attained the cream, Clavita took from out of her black bag a folding chess board and all thirty-two pieces, half of which were dark red, the other half white.

**********

_9:20 am_

As if on cue, the massive shape of Dr. Terrence McNamara came into focus. He was a large man with thick glasses and a bushy, walrus-like moustache. He was dressed smartly in an expensive gray suit and carried a leather briefcase that looked well-made. He smiled and raised a hand upon noticing the petite, Latino girl who waited expectantly.

"You, again?" the man asked with a good-natured chuckle.

"Oh," Clavita asked with exaggerated innocence. "Was I here before?"

"Come on, now," Dr. McNamara remarked as he set his case down on the stone walkway. "This has become one of your little hobbies, hasn't it?"

"You could say that," Clavita commented, smiling brightly. "So, meeting today?"

"Yes, indeed." Dr. McNamara sat down in the chair; its iron flexing somewhat. "I have to meet with a new client later, and my boss wants to get together for drinks at some point."

"Ooooh," Clavita commented. "That must be exciting."

"Exciting, nerve-racking, whichever," he chuckled again. "But games of chess always seem to clear my head."

The girl grinned. "Glad I can help," she said, examining the chess pieces. "Your move..."

**********

_9:22 am_

"Checkmate," Clavita stated proudly, moving her rook into place while her opponent watched dumbfounded.

"...How...?"

"It's a gift," Clavita replied, already setting up the pieces for the next game. Dr. McNamara just shook his head and stood up.

"I must be getting old... I just can't win against you."

"Think of these as lessons, sir,"

The huge man sighed and reached a hand into his pocket. He withdrew a twenty dollar bill and handed it over to the girl, who eyed it hungrily.

"Thank you," she chirped, stuffing the bill into her pocket. "Another time, maybe?"

Dr. McNamara looked at the girl smiling wishfully and couldn't resist smiling himself. "My pleasure, Miss Cruz." He nodded his head and lumbered off. Clavita waved after him, then instantly turned her attention to other potential challengers in her vicinity.

**********

_9:40 am_

Clavita observed the two students who had wandered into the area. A boy and a girl, they were clearly of college age, and the boy was sporting a jacket with the trademark colors of the University of Massachusetts. The chess hustler waited patiently, carefully analyzing these newcomers, deciding the best way to entice one of them into playing.

The couple was walking along the park, seemingly having a conversation with each other. That in itself was not unusual. It was the disposition of the male which intrigued Clavita. His jacket had been unzipped, and he was only wearing a light T-shirt underneath. Clearly his body was overheating. He occasionally wiped his hands on his jeans, a definite indication of excessive perspiration. His breathing was labored, and he seemed to be trying to avoid looking in the girl's direction. The girl was sporting a small smile and did not seem to mind walking closely to her male counterpart.

In a matter of seconds, Clavita understood. These two college students were friends, probably talking about classes or something. But the boy was interested in being more than friends. He wanted this friend to become his girlfriend. That was the only explanation for his uneasiness, their relatively close proximity, and the fact that the girl was oblivious.

Thinking swiftly, Clavita decided that he was anxious to try and get her to think about him in the same way. Clavita had to "morph" her personality to accommodate his desire, so as to more easily attract him as a customer.

Well, she had been the "innocent sweet girl" for Dr. McNamara, but this boy needed something else... yes... she needed to provide this boy with an opportunity for his friend to see him in a new light.

Less than two seconds later, Clavita had planned a routine. "Hey, mister!" she shouted at the duo. "Want to challenge me?"

The boy turned quickly; probably anxious to focus his mind on something else. The girl turned as well, albeit more out of curiosity.

"...Are you talking to me?" he asked. Clavita put on a rictus grin and nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah!" she said. "It'll be fun! I love to play this game. Don't you think it's the greatest? I've been playing for, like, years!"

The female student grinned and turned to the boy. "She is so _cute_!" she whispered. Unfortunately, her lips tantalizingly close to his ear caused him to suddenly become flustered.

"I charge twenty dollars a game," Clavita said mock-businesslike. "But that's only if you lose. See, I _never_ lose!"

The female student put a hand over her mouth and laughed softly. She nudged her friend in the ribs and nodded.

"Are you serious, Delia?" he asked.

"Come on, look at her," the female responded in a whisper, though Clavita could still hear her fairly well. "She's all alone in the park. She probably has no friends. She must come from a poor family or something, and so she has to do this. Go on... she'll really appreciate it."

"Well..." he said, looking toward the chess board.

**********

_9:55 am_

Unbeknownst to her opponent, Clavita had intentionally let this game drag on a bit, rather than dispatch the boy in her usual two to seven minutes. It was all part of her plan. In order for her to remain in business, she had to keep her vast intellect a secret most of the time. She had to make everything look convincing. During the past fifteen minutes, the child had willingly forced her face to change from a look of confidence to uneasiness and now, worry and fear. She completed the illusion by breathing heavily and trembling her hand. Her opponent just watched the board closely, while his female counterpart looked at Clavita worryingly. Finally, the young girl plastered a look of excitement on her face and moved her remaining bishop into place, trapping the White King.

"Checkmate!" she declared, breathing a sigh of relief.

The boy laughed and stood. "Hey, I was lucky. You're a talented player." He fished out two ten dollar bills and handed them over to the very appreciative child.

"Ready to go, Delia?" he asked nervously.

"Yeah, let's go," his friend said. When the boy was a good ten feet away, Delia quickly bent down toward Clavita.

"Hey, did he let you win?"

Fighting the urge not to laugh, Clavita just nodded dishonestly.

"Yeah," she said, smiling and looking at the ground. "He's really sweet."

Delia nodded, looking at her friend. "Yeah...," she remarked, enlightened. "He is..."

Delia ran off to rejoin her friend, walking a little closer to him this time.

No sooner had they left, Clavita quickly reset the board, and tried to excavate her original personality.

_Oh well,_ she mused as she spied a well-dressed, middle-aged woman taking photographs of trees. _All in a day's work_. "Excuse me, Ma'am. Do you like chess?"

**********

_2:30 pm_

Her stomach rumbling and her hands greasy and grimy from the constant touching of less-than-crisp dollar bills, Clavita counted up the day's profits. The total came to four-hundred and twenty dollars all in all. She had not expected to have so many challengers on a weekday. Then again, some of her "customers" were recurring, such as Dr. McNamara. It was amazing, she periodically reflected, how many people would pay hard-earned money to try and massage their ego by attempting to defeat a twelve year-old girl in a game of chess.

Folding up her money and stuffing it tightly in her pocket, Clavita packed up her chess set and made her way out of the park. She was absolutely ravenous, and didn't think she could accomplish too much more today unless she acquired some nourishment quickly.

**********

_2:40_ _pm_

"_¡Hola, mi estimado!_" the older woman greeted Clavita upon hearing her open the glass door to the restaurant with a ring of bells. "_¡Sí, venga adentro! ¡Salga del tiempo frío!_" the woman ordered cheerfully, smiling with every one of her pearly white teeth.

Clavita let the door swing shut, wondering if she should feel offended or not. Just because she was of Hispanic descent didn't necessarily mean that she automatically spoke Spanish. She had been born and raised in the USA, after all. Not all Americans knew every hint of their ancestry. Of course, she was unable to take much offense, considering that she did indeed speak fluent Spanish, thanks to her parents and casual study of the language. But still...

"_¿Sí, es frío, hoy, no es?_" Clavita replied as politely as she could, her blood sugar diminishing by the second.

"_¿Qué usted desea, mi estimado?_" the woman asked, intrigued by her newest customer.

The girl studied the large menu hungrily. She felt hungry enough to eat one of everything, but knew that her mind was playing a trick on her. She did not like to leave leftovers too often.

"Ah..." she began, while the woman behind the counter waited with that unfaltering smile. "_¿Puedo tener algunos Arroz con Gandules, con tres taquitos, por favor?_"

"_¡Sí, por supuesto!_" the woman happily replied, writing down the order on a scrap of paper.

"_... Y una Pimiento relleno, por favor._"

**********

_3:00 pm_

Polishing off the remnants of her lunch, Clavita tossed the empty Styrofoam container into a nearby trash can and marched up the steps of the gigantic Boston Public Library. Opening the door, she was met with the familiar sounds (or lack thereof) and sights of what she had since declared her favorite place to be. Navigating her way through the labyrinth of bookshelves, she located a book she had begun last week: _The Breaking of the American Social Compact_, written by the late Richard Cloward. Sitting herself down in an aged wooden chair, Clavita took out a notebook and pen from her bag, and flipped through the pages scribed with countless notes and questions until finding a blank one. She took a deep breath to clear her mind of chess games and Puerto Rican restaurants, and began to read.

**********

_7:45 pm_

Her own bag slung over her shoulder and now lugging a paper bag full of groceries she'd bought from a local market, Clavita trudged her way back home. She made sure to walk down streets she knew to be frequented by police officers. It gave her a sense of reassurance and safety. The bag she held contained mostly fruits and vegetables, eggs, milk, bread, and some Swiss cheese. Turning the corner, she noticed two small children walking with their parents toward the family's car. The kids looked content to be in the company of their loved ones.

Clavita promptly looked away, her stomach muscles tightening.

**********

_8:55 pm_

Collecting her mail on the way up, she made it back to her apartment room. After a quick dinner of scrambled eggs and sauteed carrots, she sat down on her sofa to pay some bills. Each of the letters (addressed to a "Ms. Anna Vasquez") was either a utilities bill, gas bill, or simply a note from the superintendent personally thanking her for being one of the more quiet residents, and that he appreciated her as a tenant. Clavita shook her head sadly. The kindly old superintendent may have some difficulty casually socializing with a woman who did not exist.

**********

_10:00 pm_

Changing into her baggy pajamas once again, Clavita curled up in her soft, warm bed and turned off her small night table light. She stared at the ceiling for a while, the blackness of the night overwhelming her vision. Her mind, still throbbing with activity over the latest chapters of the book she'd read earlier, slowly wandered off to other thoughts.

She drifted back to when her mother would sit in a chair next to her bed when she was sick, softly stroking her back until she fell asleep... When her father used to take her out to explore the city on weekends and point out every historic site; partly out of devotion, but mostly because Clavita was always hungry for knowledge in any form.... She thought back to every wonderful moment from her idyllic childhood, and wondered.

She wondered why things had changed the way they had. She wondered if she was on the right path. She wondered what the future had in store for her.

She was wondering until she finally nodded off; a single tear streaming from her closed eye.


	2. Chapter 2

The tranquility of the forest was abruptly shattered when the terrified creature bolted through the dense brush, upsetting a flock of grounded birds and sending several hedgehogs scurrying for cover. The being was wild, panicked... horrified at the consequences of his actions.

He tore across a field without so much as a pause. He contracted his powerful leg muscles and leapt clear over a rushing creek, nearly tripping over a sunbathing turtle. His throat was dry. His leg had begun to cramp. There was an excruciating pain in his abdomen.

But the creature never slowed for an instant.

When he was once again running on a level surface, the creature drew out a large golden pocket watch and fearfully checked the time. It read five minutes until eleven in the evening. His whiskers twitched and he shuddered.

"Oh, my very whiskers!" he cried. "I shall be late! Late! Late!"

At this he stumbled, but quickly righted himself and started off even faster. His white "ball of fluff" tail wiggled as he desperately tried to will himself to sprint faster than any rabbit (he was sure) had ever sprinted before.

Finally, the rabbit mercilessly saw a majestic castle in the distance, stretching high into the heavens. He knew the layout well. He knew every nook and cranny of the castle grounds.

Unfortunately, that also provided him with the knowledge that he would indeed arrive too late. It would take precisely seven minutes to reach the royal garden where Her Majesty was waiting, and he only had three. Despair filled the poor animal's heart. He had only just reached the moat! He would never make it in time!

.... Wait...

The moat... perhaps all hope was not lost, after all.

Without a second thought, the rabbit made an abrupt turn and, without a second thought, jumped over a small bridge into the icy water. The temperature felt even colder on his overheated body, but it served to refresh him, giving him a blessed burst of extra energy.

His powerful back legs kicked and twitched excitedly as he cut through the water like a blade through paper. Despite his small size, he could hold his breath a long time, and only needed to come up for air every few minutes or so. Fighting through the discomfort, the rabbit opened his eyes underwater, so as to better identify telltale shapes and directional changes. He had often seen servants tending to the moat, and was certain the path of the water bisected the gardens...

Finally, upon noticing the shadow of a Victorian-style bridge, the rabbit shifted his body weight upward. With an awe-inspiring last kick, the rabbit launched himself out of the water, landing on soft, manicured grass.

He checked his pocket watch once more. It was soaking wet, but still functional. 10:59. He had made it... The knowledge came to him as a map would appear to a lost traveler. He was safe...

He laid on the grass for a bit, his breathing returning to normal. He let his bespectacled eyes roam over the black sky with the seemingly infinite twinkling stars. He looked around him at the lovely, majestic gardens with an adjoining hedge maze, fully illuminated by the light of the full moon. The white, marble statues of hearts arranged in a pattern that he himself had the privilege of organizing. He smiled at the memory... Her Majesty had congratulated him on a job well done personally...

_11:00pm_

"ON YOUR FEET!" the booming voice bellowed.

"Oh!" exclaimed the rabbit. He stood up and shook the remnants of the moat's water from his damp, white fur. Satisfied that he was somewhat presentable, the rabbit executed a well-practiced bow. "Your Majesty!" he exclaimed, urgently but respectful at the same time.

"Hmmph," the voice sounded. That was the telltale sign that it was acceptable to look the woman in the face once again. It meant that she was satisfied with his greeting. Cautiously, the white rabbit looked up. His view of the grounds and castle was obscured by the enormous Queen. She had constricted her massive body to the near-bursting confines of a red, pink and black gown. Her chest heaved with angry breathing. He eyebrows were knitted together in a perpetual frown of rage. Around her neck she wore a necklace of rubies, each one styled in the shape of a heart. He scepter also has a heart at the top. As were her earrings. Her black hair was styled elegantly in a bun. At the top of her head, she wore a solid gold crown, dotted with pearls. At either side she was flanked by two guards, each one two-dimensional and covered with symbols. The left one with clubs, the right with spades.

"REPORT!" she screamed.

"Ahem..." the rabbit began, wringing out his soaked watch. "Your Majesty, the March Hare sends his respect, but politely insists that he is unable to attend the croquet match. He's apparently engaged in a separate affair with the Hatter."

"WHAT AFFAIR?!"

"He... They're at their tea party, you see," he meekly responded, trembling with fear. "The tea party never ends. They couldn't leave it if they tried..."

The Queen was silent for a moment.

"Infinite... eternal..." she mused in an oddly soft voice. "Which is longer?"

"Your Majesty?"

"If there are several moments of eternity," she answered. "How many are required to have an infinity? There isn't a tea party that could last through three eternities. How many are they at right now?"

"Hah!" the club exclaimed. "'Tis one and the same, Your Majesty!"

The white rabbit felt his heart skip a beat as the Queen rounded on her guard. The club, for his part, suddenly began to shake.

"Er... that is to say-" he began.

"SEIZE HIM!" the Queen bellowed.

In a brilliant flash of pink light, a dozen more guards appeared, each one expressionless. In an instant, they grabbed the helpless club by his frail arms and held him still.

"YOU ARE CHARGED WITH INSUBORDINATION!" the Queen screamed, spit flying from her mouth.

"No! Your Majesty! Please!" the club begged.

The rabbit lowered his head, for he knew what to expect.

"OFF WITH HIS HEAD!"

There was a swish, a dull _thwack_, and a bloodied, disembodied head unceremoniously rolled to the rabbit's feet, an expression of fear still etched on his face.

The obese Queen stared at the headless corpse of her guard, and incredibly, smiled. "Now, then," she asked the body, bending down slightly. "Are you ready for your verdict?"

The white rabbit shuddered.

**********

Clavita once again filled her lungs with the cold afternoon air and gave a great, audible sigh. It had been a slow day. She made sure to arrive at her favorite table right on time and set up the chess pieces just right (that was, with all the knights facing forward and the bishops turned at a forty-five degree angle). And yet, when she scouted the area for a challenger, there were none in sight. The only people she noticed at all were a grizzled old man, moaning and stumbling and a husband and wife couple who did not look like they were in any mood to match wits against an almost-teenage girl.

Over the past two weeks, the weather had not eased in its magnitude. Quite the contrary; it was colder than Clavita had ever remembered. She was given full view of her foggy breath as it danced and undulated into the air. Occasionally a bitter wind would blow, forcing the girl to use her bag as a makeshift windshield to protect her chess pieces from toppling over.

Her nose was numb and running profusely. Her lips were beginning to chap. She shivered in the merciless cold. Although she wore some mittens that she herself had knitted and her thickest sweater that she could scavenge, they did little to warm her petite body. Particularly since she had remained still for so long.

She checked her watch. _1:51pm_. She groaned. She should have had at least one customer by now. It was time to face the grim truth: her season would have to end one month earlier this year. In this terrible weather, people were more comfortable inside heated buildings than outside in a public park, beautiful though it might be.

But the beauty of the park would do nothing to make a profit for the day. Clavita's stomach was growling, and she had yet to earn any money today. She would have to dip into her savings, conveniently hidden underneath a loose floorboard in her apartment. Some time would have to be devoted as to how she could stretch her budget along the Winter and now, the remainder of Autumn.

Her whirlwind calculations were suspended as she suddenly took notice of someone close by.

A female had wandered into the area. Just beyond the iron tables stood a girl who did not quite look old enough to be a college student. Clavita immediately turned her advanced brain to sizing this girl up, planning to have her suggest a game with the young Latino.

The girl was standing with her back turned toward Clavita, a digital camera in her hands. She was idly photographing scenes around the park, probably taking advantage of its free space and lack of crowds on this particular day.

Bits of brown hair were visible from out her white woolen hat. She wore a blood-red scarf, a grungy denim jacket and jean skirt. Thick, pink leg-warmers kept her lower body safeguarded from the cold, and her feet were probably equally protected from within the confines of the girl's large, gray furry boots.

Clavita frowned. She had never seen a girl with such an unusual wardrobe. Perhaps she was of a different culture? A foreigner?

"Hello," Clavita said sweetly.

The girl turned curiously. Clavita had expected her to smile; maybe even wave. But instead the female just stared, a look of suspicion addling her otherwise maidenly face. Jade-green eyes focused on Clavita intently, as if determining whether she was in the presence of someone who was untrustworthy.

"Um..." she continued uneasily. "My name is Clavita. What's your name?"

The girl took a step closer, but did not make any other gesture.

"Ekaterina," she said in a voice tinted with an accent that sounded somewhat recognizable. Hoping to gain her trust, Clavita figured that being polite was the best course of action for this one.

"That's a pretty name," she remarked, smiling. "Do people call you 'Kat?'"

There was a brief, awkward pause.

"If I want them to," Ekaterina replied icily.

"...Oh. Where are you from?" Clavita asked, hearing her accent a little more clearly now.

"I... from?" she asked. Ekaterina shot her a look that was colder than the wind itself. She seemed to be emotionless. "I from Russia."

"Oh, wow..."

"Moscow," she clarified.

"I've always wanted to visit Russia," she gushed. "See St. Basil's Cathedral..."

"I have seen it," the Russian answered.

"Are you visiting with your f-... family?" Clavita choked a little at the last word.

"I... ex- ...exchange student," Ekaterina carefully pronounced, walking another step closer. "High school."

Deciding that she had penetrated the Russian's exterior, Clavita decided to take the plunge. "Would you like to play a game of chess?"

"Chess?" she asked interestingly, taking her eyes off the girl for the first time and focusing them on the board.

"Yes! I understand it's a popular game in Russia..." Ekaterina nodded. "I always challenge people here for twenty dollars. That would be... about... six-hundred and eighty rubles."

Ekaterina looked shocked. "Would be, yes."

"Interested?" Clavita asked, flashing her beautiful smile again. "I never lose..." she added temptingly.

There was a long pause, punctuated only by a flock of geese flying by overhead.

"Oh, really?" Ekaterina asked. She sat herself down in the chair opposite Clavita and smiled herself. "Neither do I."

It took every ounce of self-control Clavita possessed for her to not laugh hysterically. "Well, then," she propositioned. "You won't mind if I go first."

**********

"Aaron, not now!" The gray-haired man insisted. "This isn't the time." The man turned to resume his conversation, leaving his thirteen year old son sulking.

Aaron glanced around the posh hotel ballroom, looking bored. The celebration being held was certainly held in high regard. There were numerous tables, each of its occupants dressed in their finest clothes. The tinkling of wine glasses filled his ears as he listened to speech after speech given by various members of his father's company. Thunderous applause occasionally erupted, contributing to Aaron's growing headache.

He glanced across the table at his mother. She was deeply engrossed in some ridiculous conversation with her friends. Aaron was able to pick up words such as "spa," "Chanel" and "club," but the rest melded together in a monologue of pretentious chatter among a self-obsessed, vain woman.

Aaron sighed. He should have been used to these long, dull affairs. He had seen his father, Arron Sr, being presented with so many awards and trophies for his successful career as head of Finn-Tronics, he knew them all by heart. Unfortunately, there were never any children his age at these things, and he would have liked to find some way, _any _way to pass the time.

He felt a pain in his stomach upon remembering what would happen after the meeting. His father would probably go out to the club for some drinks, and his mom would undoubtedly give her credit cards a good workout with her friends at some ritzy clothing or jewelry store. He would be shuffled back home to endure another long day of video games, under close supervision of one of the family's many servants. He frowned. The penthouse his parents owned may be smaller than their manor in upstate New York, but that didn't mean it felt any more pleasant. And they were to be in Boston for the rest of the month, while his father secured the closings on several properties he was acquiring at the moment.

His mother had barely spoken three words to him since this morning. His father couldn't even be bothered to answer his simple question as to when the party would be over.

He should have been used to this... and yet...

"Oh, don't worry!" his mother chirped. "We can push the spa date back until tomorrow. We don't need to bother with reservations. What do you say tonight we go to the Astral Club?" Her friends all smiled and nodded in agreement. "I have nothing but free time until Aaron finishes his work in the city!"

That was the final straw. Aaron would allow himself a taste of freedom for the time being. He stood up and marched out of the ballroom. Unnoticed, of course. _Nothing but free time_... didn't this woman even know that she had a son?

His throat suddenly hurting, Aaron stepped out of the warm, palatial hotel into the bitterly cold air outside.

**********

Clavita had to admit, she deeply enjoyed watching Ekaterina move piece after piece with that smug look never leaving her place. It wouldn't be long, now...

"Check," her opponent declared, her accent slightly editing the word, as she triumphantly moved her queen into place.

Clavita nodded. "You're good, Kat." It was true. This girl had some natural talent for the game.

"Ekaterina," she reminded her.

"Oh; sorry." Clavita scanned the board. He king was indeed in danger of being taken out. There was no place for him to retreat to. Her rooks were occupied for the time being, as were her pawns. One of her bishops had been captured, and the other was too far away to be of any use. That suited her fine; she didn't need it.

The Russian girl had committed so many of her own pieces to chasing down the American's king that she had unknowingly left her own king vulnerable. Clavita mentally smiled. All she needed to do was to move her queen out of hiding, taking out Ekaterina's queen and leaving her own king helplessly checkmated.

Ekaterina frowned at Clavita's lack of worry and began to wonder. Had she just been outsmarted? She followed Clavita's view to a cluster of pieces on the far corner of the board. With a rather unpleasant shock, the Russian saw that her king was about to be dispatched by the younger child's own queen!

Well, no little girl was going to make a fool out of Ekaterina Nikolievna Petrova! She normally preferred to "cheat" when the situation was really important. And, according to her, being bested by a young Latino girl in a game she was supposed to be the best at certainly fit such criteia.

Smirking and putting her hand underneath the table, Ekaterina twitched her right index finger and concentrated.

**********

"Oh!" the Queen of Hearts exclaimed, clutching her chest and falling to her knees. Her guards surrounded her, and the white rabbit hurried around to face her.

"Your Majesty!" he exclaimed. "What's the matter?"

"I..." the queen began, a rare moment of sanity purifying her mind. "I... I felt something..."

**********

Clavita reached out to pick up her knight. Another day, another victory...

...Wait a minute...

Her knight? With eyes wide, she studied the piece she had just picked up. She blinked in disbelief several times, but no matter how hard she tried to deny it, the wood carving of a horseman was still grasped between her spindly fingers.

"Well?" asked Ekaterina. "Make your move."

Something had just happened... her knight had just been on another square of the board. Somehow, someway, this girl had pulled a fast one on her!

"You cheated!" she exclaimed, glaring at the Russian accusingly.

Ekaterina looked like she had just witnessed a grisly murder. Her eyes widened to double their size, and her mouth dropped open in disbelief.

"I... you... how?"

"You cheated!" she shouted again, pointing a finger. "I just had my queen there, and now it's my knight!" Ekaterina looked scared. "You just moved them around! That's not fair!"

Ekaterina was frozen in shock. "How?" she whispered. "How did you....?"

"How did I what?!" Clavita demanded.

Instead of answering, Ekaterina swiped her arm across the board, scattering the pieces along the frozen ground. Without offering an answer, she immediately jumped up and ran off into the distance, her long red scarf flailing behind her.

"Hey!" the girl shouted angrily. "You still owe me! I would have won!" She stared at the fleeing Russian a bit longer, then with a sigh, she bent down to pick up her pieces.

"It's not fair..." she said as she cradled the red queen and king in her hands like robin's eggs. "She didn't have to do that..." Despite her no-nonsense attitude when chess hustling, Clavita felt close to tears as she began to hunt her pawns.

**********

Aaron was at a loss. He did not want to stray too far from the hotel, but he did not want to return, either. He felt sick. Sick of his parents. Sick of their uncaring attitudes toward him. Sick of the fact that his own mom was more intrigued with fashion and superficialities than the well-being of her own son!

Beneath the sickness was anger. Rage. Hatred at his miserable life. As he stewed in his thoughts, he arrived at an iron fence surrounding Boston Commons. Sighing, he rested his hand on the iron fence, trying to remember the last time he had been to a park.

Sneering, he realized with a growing sense of hatred that his parents had never brought him to a park. Or a museum. Or a ball game. Or anywhere! They were always too busy. Dad with work, and mom with shopping or the spa. He knew that if they had wanted to spend time with him, they would have done so by now! He was unwanted. Just a burden unwanted by his own family.

With a growl, Aaron tightened his grip on the fence, bending and melding the iron bars together with very little effort. Surprised, Aaron withdrew his hand.

"...How in the world did I do that?"


End file.
